


Foreplay

by eatingcroutons



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Loki is a Box of Cats, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Non Consensual, Plot What Plot, Spoilers, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatingcroutons/pseuds/eatingcroutons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AUish, based on The Avengers. Loki captures Thor and uses Clint to... take advantage of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foreplay

For a long time, Loki just stands and looks.  
  
Stripped of his armour, gagged and bound to the bed, Thor glares back. In fairness, he can do little else. Loki holds his gaze and waits - waits, and watches as an edge of confusion creeps into the defiant anger. Lets the unwieldy cogs of Thor’s mind turn, lets him grow impatient, lets him wonder. Lets anticipation build. Lets time do his work for him.  
  
Oh, the things he could do. The things he _will_ do. They play out in his mind’s eye, a chiaroscuro of pleasure and pain, each idea more enticing than the last. And yet he waits. Waits until Thor’s patience stretches and then finally snaps, until he starts tugging futilely at his bonds, eyes darting around the room for any hint of release, snapping back to glare at Loki every now and then.  
  
After long minutes, Loki allows himself a slow smile, then extends a thread of mental pressure. The door slides open behind him, and he catches the widening of Thor’s eyes, grins outright at the way they flicker back and forth between Loki and their guest. For the first time there’s more than confusion there - there’s doubt, and Loki licks his lips before exerting another mental command.  
  
The archer steps into the room and begins to strip.  
  
Thor’s brow furrows, and Loki can read the questions swimming in those clouded blue eyes, plain as text on a page. He doesn’t offer any answers; he simply winks and lies down alongside Thor on the mattress. Leans on one elbow, rests his head on his hand to enjoy the show.  
  
Thor’s eyes snap forward when the archer straddles him on the bed and runs a finger down his sternum.  
  
Loki makes him draw it out - watches as callused fingers trace every line of muscle through Thor’s thin undershirt. Watches the rise and fall of that broad chest begin to quicken. When the archer finally tears the shirt from his shoulders, Thor glances over and for the first time Loki spies a hint of panic.  
  
It is _delicious_.  
  
Thor must catch something in Loki’s expression, because he wrenches his gaze away and refuses to meet Loki’s eyes again. No matter. Loki lazily traces patterns over Thor’s bicep as the archer tugs open his pants, slipping the fingers of one hand into his own mouth as he wraps his other around Thor, coaxing him to hardness.  
  
It’s not long before Thor responds; his arousal is there in the clench of his fists, the strain of his neck, the heaving of his chest - and of course in the hard length between his legs. Which the archer is even now preparing himself for, rocking on three of his own fingers.  
  
Thor closes his eyes as the archer shifts into position, and Loki bites down on the sigh that tries to escape him.  
  
The archer sinks down and begins to move.  
  
Loki grazes his fingertips over his own arousal, but doesn’t make a move to claim his share of the prize. No, far better to _watch_ , to remain cognizant enough to catch every flicker of emotion, the lightning-fast cycle of lust-shame-fear-lust as guilt and pleasure war within that lumbering mind. The archer rides him relentlessly, rhythmically, eyes glazed and mouth open. He will continue as long as Loki wishes, oblivious to his own need - and _oh_ how he relishes that power, the total subjugation of another’s will.  
  
Finally Thor turns to meet Loki’s eyes again, a tangle of hope and despair and _please_ written in the clench of his jaw, the sweat beading on his forehead, the gloss of his eyes. The archer gives a particularly vicious twist of his hips, and Thor flinches, moans under the gag, no longer able to control his own body from bucking up into every rolling pitch. Loki presses his free palm to the heat between his legs and _gasps_ , teeth bared, eyes trying to flutter shut - then wrenches his hand away, slams it flat to the mattress. He _will not_ be distracted from this.  
  
Instead he grabs the back of Thor’s skull, leans in over his chest, leans in until they’re face to face, mere fingersbreadths apart. He’s grinning again, can’t help it as those shining, guileless blue eyes betray every drop of sensation Thor feels. Loki eyes flicker over Thor’s face as he soaks it up greedily, the lust and the guilt and the _torment_ , that bright soul stripped bare for him and him alone. Thor’s breathing grows erratic and Loki’s fingers dig into his skull, vice-like, as he watches the Almighty God of Thunder come apart.

**Author's Note:**

>  **eatingcroutons:** still trying to figure out how my brain went from "loki likes foreplay" to "LOKI USES CLINT TO RAPE THOR"
> 
>  **Taleya:** well he's a god  
>  a batshit insane one  
> so yeah that is foreplay  
> HUMANS USE TOYS, DON'T THEY?  
> he just has a broader definition
> 
>  **eatingcroutons:** actually that makes a disturbing amount of sense
> 
>  **Taleya:** just don't try and fit him headfirst like a conventional dildo


End file.
